


Bacardi 151

by lovetapeficfest



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: (brief) one-sided hate sex, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Blindfolds, Body Shots, Cockwarming, Humiliation, Light BDSM, M/M, Pet Play, Praise, Praise Kink, Restraints, Sex while tipsy, Soft BDSM, Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy Chanyeol, age gap, alcohol consumption, bartender baekhyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26527153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetapeficfest/pseuds/lovetapeficfest
Summary: The cure to Chanyeol’s stress is a straight shot of 75.5% and an equally potent bartender, whose bedroom moves make his senses drunk and his heart [and dick] light on fire.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 24
Kudos: 225
Collections: Love Tape - Round 2020





	Bacardi 151

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt number:** V006
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** The Mods of the Love Tape Chanbaek Smut Fest in no way claim ownership over or take credit for this work. All authors who have participated in Love Tape will be tagged and credited accordingly after reveals. This is a work of fiction and in no way is it meant to directly represent the likeness of any real life celebrities. All names and images are borrowed with fictional intent only. No disrespect is intended towards either Chanyeol, Baekhyun, EXO, or any other individual mentioned in this work. The Mods and Authors of Love Tape are in no way affiliated with either Baekhyun, Chanyeol, or EXO, and we do not attempt to claim ownership over them.
> 
>  **Author’s Note:** Hi! First time participating in the fest. Saw the prompt and a sassy Baek always tickles me, so I hope this will satisfy the very dear prompter who pitched it. I certainly had a lot of fun putting lots of unconventional twists in it, so I hope the prompter enjoys it!

By the time Chanyeol had staggered miserably into _Delight_ , his tie was haphazardly undone, shirt tails untucked and top two buttons unbuttoned. He’s never actually visited this particular bar before—he preferred the one a little more downtown a few blocks away from his apartment, but considering the dumpster fire he’s had to handle for the past twelve hours, he really needed something to blast out the migraine in his head real quick.

It was placed at the same street a few numbers away from his office, and it always stared at him when he looked out of the window—so why not? The interior looked a little modern; maybe that’s because this is a student campus area and kids these days don’t like tavern-looking bars. The walls and furniture were black, the inside lit by soft blue lights that glowed from the wall’s edges. Made sense why the countertop wasn’t sticky; kids these days _also_ care about things looking clean, but maybe that’s just because it’s still 9pm and things don’t get messy until later on.

Chanyeol unceremoniously dumped himself on the counter seat, almost toppling over from how thin its legs were. He immediately placed his forehead against the table and groaned, fisting through his hair. There’s a few teenage-sounding giggles nearby from seeing the thirty-something year old man absolutely lose it on the countertop, but Chanyeol’s too preoccupied being stressed and angry about one thing, to be stressed and angry about this _other_ thing.

A giggle rang behind the counter, and Chanyeol looked up to see what was presumably _Delight_ ’s bartender, clothed in a dark blue waistcoat and striped slacks that seemed… well, Chanyeol knew better and averted his eyes. Much like the bar’s interior, his hair was as dark as the night, with one little strand of his bangs dyed a haphazard blue. Some playful twinkle lit up in his eyes, and Chanyeol noticed it—it danced in the colour of his dark brown irises, amused. He was wiping off a glass, tickled by Chanyeol’s moan-and-groan session before he set it down, leaning forward.

“Someone’s stressed,” he chuckled, and Chanyeol rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed right now was a youngster teasing him mercilessly to death.

“Fuck off,” Chanyeol retorted curtly, and instead of insulted fluster, the other just snorted. He was wiping down another glass.

“Let me guess—pitch at the office didn’t go quite as planned?”

Chanyeol snarled against the table, mad that the younger got it dead-on. _Apparently_ his statistics on the reports were wrong and Kim Minseok—fucking _Kim Minseok_ , the snooty intern who decided to hate him for absolutely no reason—was glad to point out his _apparent_ mistake, without tact, right there on the table in front of the damn city council. He’ll fucking spike his venti caramel frappucino or whatever the kids drink nowadays with some laxatives. See how it feels to feel like shit.

“None of your business.”

“It _will_ be, once you’ve downed something,” the boy smiled, setting down the glass—his eyes twinkled again, “Pick your poison.”

He waved at the list of drinks available at the wall, written in chalk, and—honestly, he’s probably getting old, but he really couldn’t read it in the dark. Feeling a migraine washing over his head, he rubbed his temples and rested his head on the table again, groaning over today’s events at work.

“A shot of whatever highest content you’ve got,” Chanyeol grumbled, and the youngin seemed amused by his request. He leaned on the table behind the counter and stuck out his hip.

“Sure?”

“Sure as hell.”

“Because the highest we have, is…” the young man dipped under the counter, coming up a few seconds later to produce a clear bottle with a red cap, its contents orange. The surface of the bottle was wet, as if it had been dunked into water. The bartender’s eyes looked up, “75.5%.”

“Huh?” Chanyeol perked up, momentarily forgetting his workplace fiasco, “Doesn’t it usually go up to 40%?”

“Sure, if you’re a pussy that is,” the man smiled; his eyes lit up again like a bright light, illuminating his face; a challenge. Chanyeol gritted his teeth. What a fucking asshole! Still, it goes both ways. He liked the guy—he had wit, and wasn’t easily offended by Chanyeol’s current delirium. Chanyeol shrugged and sunk back onto the counter.

“I’ll have it.”

“Straight?”

“Mhmm.”

“It’s thrice the price for just a regular vodka shot, sure you just don’t want three of 40% instead?” the youngster looked at him quizzically, and Chanyeol rolled his eyes. Questions, questions. Ideally, he’d like some answers, so he just bared his teeth at the young man—which the latter found so funny he struggled to keep his smile in.

“Don’t you have student loans to pay off?” Chanyeol retorted, and the bartender did a little hissing sound, rubbing his arms frantically as if he’d caught on fire. Of course—it’s all a jest, because his foxy eyes crinkled at the older man in amusement. Chanyeol watched how his crystalline eyes fixed on the older man.

“Alright. Woof woof, old dog,” he yipped, bastardizing a dog’s bark. He popped off the strange cap of the bottle and placed a shot glass in front of Chanyeol’s hair that laid on the table, pouring the orange liquid into it. He then also placed what seemed to be a fire extinguisher behind the counter’s table, and Chanyeol looked at him quizzically.

“The hell’s that for?” Chanyeol pointed at it accusingly. The bartender crossed his arms and leaned back, chuckling.

“Bacardi 151. Are you surprised? 75.5’s flammable. Cap’s a flame arrester,” the young man pinched the bottle cap and wiggled it in the air, before closing the bottle and placed it back. Chanyeol heard a little splash afterwards—he must’ve put it in some sort of cooler filled with water. Made sense. The bartender pointed at the sign of the wall: _DAYS GONE WITHOUT A FIRE CAUSED BY 151: 240._ Underneath it were polaroids of instances where it did _indeed_ caught on fire. Apparently, a precaution was always issued because not a single person seemed to be surprised by the fact that the shot caught on fire. In fact, there’s several pictures where it was lit on fire on purpose, a group of young adults surrounding it grinning at the camera as a fiery shot sits in the center of the countertop.

“Just because I know you’ll die right afterwards,” the young man got out another glass shot and poured what seemed to be like half a shot of whiskey, raising it up to him. Chanyeol, getting off the tabletop and raising his glass, clinked it with the bartender’s and the latter downed his shot, automatically washing it afterwards. Chanyeol—who was really beginning to question his life decisions—briskly downs his own, before _holy fuck, holy fuck it feels like I’m fucking burning. Oh my god holy fucking shit._

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ,” Chanyeol rasped, feeling his throat burn. It wasn’t just his throat—it burned him up all the way down to his esophagus, and momentarily remained in his stomach that it made him double over. He’s no stranger to feeling alcohol warm up his throat, but this felt like a _flame_ , and he must’ve looked so funny gagging over it because the bartender was falling into peals and _peals_ of laughter.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry for laughing. That never gets old to watch,” the young man cackled, wiping his tears away. That damned shot killed him for sure—still, it’s a pretty good one, because Chanyeol felt the effects _instantaneously_. As the bartender takes another person’s orders, Chanyeol tries to regain his composure—and _wow_. He felt so much more relaxed now, the stiffness in his shoulders gone. Why was he even angry in the first place? Chanyeol was smiling now—and he’s so sure that he wouldn’t be so suddenly chirrupy if it weren’t for that fucking shot. The bartender noticed this, since he started giggling again. And that giggle… oh, it felt good to hear.

“Now, you wanna tell me what’s gotten those knots into your shoulders?” the young man smiled. Not a minute ego, Chanyeol would’ve told him to fuck off—now, he felt like he could fly like a horse. That didn’t feel right, though. Do horses fly?

“Kim. _Fucking_. Minseok,” Chanyeol rasped, swaying over the counter. He propped his arm on his elbows and pressed his chin on his hand, raking a hand through his hair. He must’ve looked a mess—he usually didn’t spend that long in the office, and he usually looked dishevelled by the time his job was over. Today he went overtime, and he’s pretty sure he’s all greasy and sweaty. The bartender disappears to take another order, before he comes back—and, hmm… the sight of his pretty lithe waist was… interesting.

“Shot down your pitch,” the bartender nodded, putting two and two together, “Let me guess—someone whos’ been hogging the manager, or whoever leads the team. Makes you feel incompetent to be there.”

“If it weren’t for the laws of this land I would’ve shot him in the head,” Chanyeol swayed on his elbow, already feeling his voice slur. Man, that shot fucked him up real good. Still, there was something else on his mind now. He hadn’t noticed how the bartender’s sleek blue-tinged waistcoat hugged his waist so damn perfectly—when the other turned around to gather ingredients for a cocktail? _Whew_. Was the room hot or was the alcohol burning him?

“Hey, kid…” Chanyeol struggled to sit up straight, eyes following the damn luscious curve that was—wait, no, he really shouldn’t stare, but _fuck_ that ass looked a masterpiece in those striped slacks. The bartender turned around to attend to him, and Chanyeol had just noticed how charming his smile was.

“How old are you?” he asks abashedly, and the young man lets out a little tinkle of laughter. He was wiping down another glass. It seems like it wasn’t the first time he’s been asked this question in _this_ particular context, because a faint blush spreads across his face.

“I’m twenty-two next month,” he smiled, setting the glass down. He leaned on the table behind the counter, and there was an _inexplicably_ playful look in his eyes, staring down at Chanyeol, “What, wanna get me a birthday gift?”

“Uhh—” Chanyeol’s brain short-circuited, really unable to answer that question without having his sober self bang against his skull. Still, he’s pretty sure he’s given himself away. The young man had the _finest_ piece of ass Chanyeol has ever laid his eyes on. His tasking job prevented him from indulging him in his admittedly dry sex life, so it’s not a surprise that Chanyeol’s brain immediately went to look for a potential body whenever he wasn’t brooding about his work. The bartender had such a cute face, he’d just realised—cheeks like strawberry and a pout so full, it must feel so good to have them wrapped around his—

“You married?” the young man’s question snapped him back to earth, and Chanyeol shuddered as he regained some form of sobriety. He had to think about the question really hard, because he’d been watching the other’s long, dainty fingers drying a cup.

“No,” Chanyeol answered some thirty seconds later, swaying in his seat. Wait—why did _that_ matter anyway? He looked at the young man’s eyes and there was a playful spark dancing around them, teasing him—he knew what’s up, probably because Chanyeol had been unashamedly checking out his ass and the bartender had probably noticed his eyes staring.

“Shame. I’m _only_ into dilfs,” the young man tutted, and Chanyeol almost choked. The bartender giggled at his response.

“Look. If you’re going to stare at my ass with no shame, then I’ll just tell you how it is, equally with no shame,” he purred. He puts a hand on his hip, drumming his fingers against the table. There was that flash again—lighting behind his eyes, a little sparkle of deviousness. He seemed to contemplate, before he rested his elbows on the counter, a little too close to Chanyeol’s face. The elder could feel the young man’s breaths billowing against his cheek, and it brought warmth to his face.

“Twink,” Chanyeol growled—an empty statement without a bite. The young man giggled again and oh—it sounded so lovely. The bartender playfully taps his nose, and Chanyeol was _charmed_ for some reason, even though the gesture made him grunt in annoyance.

“Whatever you say, old man,” he cheered, and got up to serve another customer. Chanyeol honestly wanted his miserable life to end. First the teasing, now the reminder of his existentialism. If he could just snap that boy in half by the damn spine.

“I’m not _that_ old,” Chanyeol crossed his arms, and the bartender laughs again because he looked like _such_ a child. The young man leaned over the counter again, and Chanyeol _really_ started to feel hot under the collar.

“Sure. How close are you to dying?”

“I’m only fucking thirty-five, kiddo,” he hissed through his teeth. That shot not only fucked up his brain, but it also made him so much more vulnerable to the young man’s teasing. The other cooed at him, tutting, shaking his head.

“I’m no kid, mister,” he purred, and—as if to prove it—he turned around to retrieve a glass, and _holy fuck_ were his slacks _always_ that tight on his ass? It fitted him so nicely, leaving little for Chanyeol to guess how it curved and dipped into his thigh. If Chanyeol straightened up and leaned down, he could finally notice the wonderful sight that was the bartender’s slacks fitting so snugly against his legs, nice and thick—and it roused something beneath Chanyeol’s stomach.

“You poor thing. Must’ve not relieved your frustrations in a while,” the bartender shook his head, and although the young man probably couldn’t see from this angle, Chanyeol crossed his legs to be safe. Maybe the other could tell from how jittery Chanyeol was acting, and where his eyes rested. The bartender smiled at him, and leaned once more on the counter again—this time a little closer, a little more kittenish. Chanyeol was forced to look into his sparkly gaze.

“Hm. I’ll make an exception,” the young man smiled, slyly tracing Chanyeol’s slightly stubbled jaw with his index. Chanyeol could do nothing but sit still, entranced by the bartender’s half-lidded eyes, the allure of his sparkling gaze hypnotizing him. The boy played with his tie, wounding it around his finger and pulling Chanyeol closer and— _oh, you son of a bitch_ , Chanyeol thought as the other whispered in his ear.

“My shift ends in four hours, if you can be a good boy and wait for me,” the young man murmured, and Chanyeol felt a shudder up creep up his spine. When they parted, the bartender giggled—because Chanyeol was staring at him in awe, frozen to his seat, an obvious tent in his pants. Chanyeol clamped his jaw shut, noticing that his mouth fell open as the other spoke. The bartender smiled at him, briefly disappearing before appearing again to fix up a cocktail for another customer.

“My name’s Baekhyun,” he winked— _nasty little brat_ —”Make sure you practice pronouncing it, because you’ll be chanting it like a mantra after I’m done with my shift.”

And _fuck_ that went straight into Chanyeol’s pants.

__

Surprisingly, Chanyeol managed to stay awake during those four hours. While Baekhyun became more preoccupied as the bar began to fill up late night, he periodically came back to entertain Chanyeol with his gutsy antics, like purposefully bending down in front of him to show off his ass. It seems that Baekhyun simply had a natural charm of conversing with others—probably because this was a bar at a university town and it wasn’t that far from campus, and most who came in were around his age, but many who came in referred to him by name and Baekhyun somehow memorised _every_ single one of them, save new customers. He was witty, charming, and his eyes sparkled in a way that made others interested—and Chanyeol couldn’t stop staring.

While waiting for the bartender’s shift to end, Chanyeol did revisions of his work on the counter, re-calculating his statistics. At one point Baekhyun’s interest was piqued and he peered over his work, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Oh, what’s that?” he inquires Chanyeol, who was mostly sober now and was periodically sipping a bottle of Breezer at his side. Chanyeol clicked his tongue between his teeth and leaned back, stretching his arms.

“My work,” Chanyeol rubbed his eyes, “Not working out so far.”

“Sure looks like it,” Baekhyun humoured, eyeing up the many scribbles on his page, “What do you work as?”

“Actuary. Doing the maths people don’t want to do because it’s too much of an annoyance to calculate how it’ll kill the student population if we replace old run-down dorms with new buildings that won’t facilitate them,” Chanyeol rested his chin on his hand. As it turns out, Baekhyun was not only good with people, but was pretty well-versed in general knowledge, because his eyes lit up in acknowledgement.

“Aha, finances,” he smiled, “Six figure wage?”

“A very comfortable one.”

“Mhmm, mhmm,” Baekhyun continued smiling, nodding along. Chanyeol, finally realising why he was so interested about how much he was earning, cocked his head. That brat’s real ballsy.

“I didn’t come here looking for a sugar baby,” Chanyeol tapped his pen on the counter pointedly, and he knew he hit it on the nail because Baekhyun’s little smile widened up to show his teeth. He gives the other a coy grin before pouting, and _fuck, stop pouting because it’s starting to hurt me down there_.

“Maybe I’ll change your mind, old man,” he winked, sauntering off to serve a drink. Chanyeol scowled at him, shouting over the music.

“Don’t fucking _call_ me an old man!”

“No can do, old man.”

Chanyeol wanted to shut that mouth up badly.

An hour later, Baekhyun finishes up his last orders and leaves to the staff room, remarking that he had to get his things. He’s replaced by another young man at the same age, who gives Chanyeol a receipt for the drinks he’d ordered. After a little while, Baekhyun emerges from the door behind the counter, bag slung over one shoulder. Chanyeol hasn’t gotten a good look of his full body yet, so when his jaw dropped to the floor when he saw it. Kids these days really hit the gym and take care of their bodies, huh?

“My place is only a block away,” Baekhyun gives him a little smile, hips swaying as he walks. Despite having trampled to the point of tearing at his chagrin, Chanyeol’s eyes still rested at his hips, waist so slim Chanyeol could wrap it around two hands if he wanted to. Chanyeol follows Baekhyun out of _Delight_ , eyes fixed on how his ass moved side to side as he walked. _He’s definitely doing it on purpose_ , Chanyeol grumbled—but it’s not like his half-hard dick was complaining.

Despite Chanyeol’s mostly aggregated style of conversing, the young man worked especially well with him, teasing him to the point of ego soreness. Baekhyun teased how Chanyeol was quick to flare up in anger—which made him flare up with even _more_ anger, calling the other a brat. The other’s trenchant behaviour, however, only made Chanyeol _inexplicably_ hornier, and despite years working in maths and statistics, Chanyeol could not link a correlation as to why.

“Do you have hate sex? I feel like you’re the type of guy who has hate sex,” the bartender giggles at him, merciless in his attacks. If Chanyeol could combust, he would’ve done so ten times by now. There’s really no reason why Chanyeol kept following him to his apartment, but alas, the boy had an _incredible_ body, and Chanyeol couldn’t wait to release his pent-up frustrations inside of him. Chanyeol gritted his teeth at him.

“What the fuck’s hate sex?”

“Something you’re dying to do right now,” Baekhyun turned around and pointed at his bulge, to which Chanyeol scowled. He seethed at the boy with rage, and Baekhyun shook his head, tutting.

“Careful, old man. You might just have an aneurysm from how angry you’re getting," Baekhyun pulled out his keys, smiling as he opened the door—only to barge into it and be pinned against the wall, Chanyeol easily overshadowing him, darkened pupils staring down at Baekhyun’s mischievous ones. 

“I’ve just had about _enough_ of your wit,” Chanyeol growled, gripping the younger’s lapels so tight Baekhyun had to tiptoe just to compensate for his sheer strength. Instead of being fearful, Chanyeol saw the boy’s eyes drop into half-lids, licking his bottom lip as if he was thirsty. _You little fucking shit_. A playful spark lit up in his eyes, enough to put lust to shame, and Chanyeol began to feel a little sweaty just by looking at it.

“Enough… for you to be riled up like this?” the boy’s voice drops to a little murmur, and Chanyeol could feel a finger being traced down his shirt, down below his belt, and glide across the zipper. Chanyeol bashfully gasped when Baekhyun pressed the back of his hand against his stupidly hot arousal, and it made Chanyeol so mad that he pushed the boy harder against the wall—and the little brat _grinned_ at him.

“Woof woof, bark bark,” the young man teased him, “Up to the top, are we? Enough to be so ballsy to pick up a boy fourteen years your junior?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Chanyeol jerked him upwards, lapels rising so dangerously the boy’s toned stomach peeked into view. What _really_ boiled Chanyeol’s blood was his next statement.

“Make me.”

And Chanyeol has had enough.

The elder pressed his mouth against the other’s so hard they banged teeth, kissing with fervour so heated it immediately pooled blood below Chanyeol's stomach. The boy had such soft lips, so tender and inviting that Chanyeol wanted to sink his teeth into them and leave them sore and swollen. The little brat was making noises of complaint but he was gripping Chanyeol's hair so they could be closer all the same, head so tilted Chanyeol began to feel strained from doing it. They skipped the introductions and went straight into tongue and teeth, nipping and biting and kissing, violating each other’s space and clawing at each other’s hair and clothes. 

“You—” _kiss_ , “—little—” _nip_ , “—fucking—” _bite_ , “—brat,” Chanyeol growled against his mouth, and shoved his tongue in before the little piece of shit could retort with something witty. He was triumphant for a second, before realizing that the asshole replied his revenge by gripping the elder’s cock with such strain it made Chanyeol’s jaw go slack. Now Baekhyun’s in control, pushing him and kicking the door into a close, pushing and pushing until Chanyeol fell into another door and both men toppled into carpet. Before Chanyeol could regain his composure, the young man was already straddling his hips, dominating over him, hands pressed against wrists to keep him down—and for someone with such a short stature, Baekhyun packed unbelievable strength in his body, because Chanyeol could _not_ rise from his compromising position.

“I’m sure you thought you could overpower and take advantage of small, scrawny little boys like me,” Baekhyun purred, as if he found Chanyeol’s feeble attempts of overturning their positions endearing, “But it’s my game, and it’s my rules, old man.”

“Don’t _fucking_ call me an old man. My name is Chanyeol—” the elder started up indignantly, but with the way that the boy suddenly rolled his hips to frot him, Chanyeol lost all resolve to bite back. The slide of the bartender’s clothed cock against his own felt so gratifying, Chanyeol couldn’t do anything but let out a broken groan, letting the younger dominate him. Baekhyun grinds against him _hard_ and it felt so punishing, so delicious—with the way the elder’s arousal frictioned against his own slacks and the other’s own hard-on, Chanyeol honestly couldn’t fight to keep up his anger.

“Now now, old doggie, lost our resolve already?” Baekhyun purred, his eyes such a sinful shade of lust, hair framing his face as he loomed over Chanyeol. He continued to grind down into the other, dominating the older man into submission, reducing him into harsh breaths hissed through clenched teeth. It seemed as if he’d already accepted the fact that he wouldn’t be able to overpower the younger, because when Baekhyun yanked him onto the mattress, he didn’t move to topple the bartender back underneath him.

“Good boy,” Baekhyun grinned at him, and Chanyeol felt his lips against his own mouth before he could bark back. A little less hurried now, and with the elder pinned underneath him, the bartender takes it slow, grinding against him, sighing blissfully as he feels himself heat up between his legs. It felt so blisteringly hot between them, and the way Baekhyun moved his hips made Chanyeol sweat.

After a little while, Baekhyun unbuttons his waistcoat with his pretty fingers, before similarly taking off his white shirt, the fall of the clothing revealing his pretty collar bones. He _really_ didn’t have to take off his top with such a sultry expression, but it made Chanyeol’s dick grow harder, so it’s not like he was about to complain. Chanyeol was _stunned_ by his body—he was by no means muscled up, but the skin on his stomach looked so beautifully taut, paired with waist and hips so prettily defined that Chanyeol felt himself leak with semen. Such porcelain skin must be immediately marked with filth—alas, the boy was the one hovering on top of him, toying him, teasing him.

“Forgot why you’re angry?” Baekhyun laughed as he saw the elder shot dumbstruck by the sight of his body. He ran his fingers down his own torso, settling on his hips, unzipping his slacks to reveal the _prettiest_ cock Chanyeol has ever seen. It was so delicately curved, flushed rather than an angry shade of red, already wet down the front with pre-cum. The thing was, Chanyeol already had a pretty good idea why he pulled his cock out first, and Chanyeol’s rage came back.

“Fuck you.”

“Woof woof, bark bark,” the bartender smiled coyly at him, and that phrase had begun to irk Chanyeol, “Go on, old doggie. Be a good boy. Lap this up.”

“You’re a little fucking piece of shit,” Chanyeol growled, inexplicably horny at the prospect of having the younger choke him at the back of his throat. Still, despite his bite, he bashfully rose to his elbows and hung his head down, not wanting the younger to look at his face as Chanyeol lipped his cock.

“Mmn,” Baekhyun sighed as Chanyeol clumsily kisses his erection, “Didn’t know you liked being humiliated and put in your place, old man.”

“Shfut fhe fhuck upf,” the elder muffled around him, still getting familiar with the other’s cock. It was by no means endowed, but it’s been a while since Chanyeol got down to do something like this. He wrapped his lips around the younger’s head, sucking even harder when the boy moaned at his ministrations. Despite the man’s discoordination, his lips felt good sliding against Baekhyun’s head, red and keening to hit something further down his mouth. Chanyeol’s neck was beginning to ache from the awkward position of having to prop up his elbows, but knowing that the younger would tease him mercilessly if he didn’t continue, he finally sunk into the boy’s cock, the curve of it making the head drag against his palate. Baekhyun moans as the elder takes him to the tight hem of his throat, nose pressed up against waxed skin, his erection engulfed in wet warmth. Chanyeol could feel the younger twitch in his mouth as he moved his head, feeling the boy’s veins slide against his lips. The bartender let out these cute little mewls that compelled Chanyeol to suck harder—still, despite his efforts, the boy sneered at him again.

“What, old man? Your joints breaking? Can’t move fast or you’ll break your spine?” he giggled breathlessly, before Chanyeol bared his teeth with the other’s cock still in his mouth—just as a show—and Baekhyun lets out a frightened yelp. Chanyeol finally felt a moment of triumph.

“Don’t fucking _bite_ me!”

“Sorry. Old dog, can’t help it,” Chanyeol retorts with a smile, but was shut up by the younger forcing his cock deep inside his throat. Baekhyun wasn’t long enough to make him choke, but it blocked Chanyeol’s airways all the same, resulting in a struggle to breathe. The worst part was that Baekhyun simply rested his cock there, not moving, forcing Chanyeol’s head to stay still. Chanyeol had no choice but to choke up whenever he breathed, and he guessed that must be pleasurable because little gasps tumbled and fell past Baekhyun’s lips. Eventually, Baekhyun pulled out, and Chanyeol was reduced to a slobbering mess as he gagged out the saliva that had been pooling into his mouth, drooling onto his work shirt.

“Careful when you’re putting your dentures in, gramps,” Baekhyun tutted, and smiled when Chanyeol growls at him in heated humiliation. His threat disappears when Baekhyun delicately presses his palm against his cock, sliding it back and forth—not enough pleasure to feel good, but just enough for Chanyeol to become desperate.

“What’s wrong?” the brat dares to ask him when Chanyeol hissed through his teeth with pleasure, “Cat got your tongue?”

“I’m going to kill you,” Chanyeol gasped out as Baekhyun tightens his grip on his arousal, jerking him off through his pants. His little giggle made Chanyeol more irked, then angrier, then hornier. His logic was perfect.

“Hold off your 911 call, old man,” Baekhyun smiled, unbuckling his belt and looping his thumbs underneath his slacks, “You’ll need it later when you have a heart attack from _this_.”

He turns around and lowers his pants, and _holy fuck_ was Chanyeol about to have an aneurysm. Perfect, _perfect_ flesh peeks from the peel of the bartender’s slacks, and it pops into a wiggle when Baekhyun gets past the restrain of the fullest part of his ass. He pushes it off his knees and onto the floor, and Chanyeol was ready to accept the fact that he could probably, very likely, cum in his pants at any moment. Baekhyun’s tiny waist was such a big mislead to the _size_ of his ass, so plump and fleshy—it wiggled without effort as Baekhyun moved his hips around. The bartender giggles when he looks behind him, drinking up Chanyeol’s gobsmacked expression because he’s pretty sure he just killed the old man.

“Still alive?” the young man teases him, and Chanyeol was way too dumbstruck to respond. With his ass facing Chanyeol’s view, Baekhyun bent down and shook his ass, tushy buns shaking like jelly as he moved. He gives his own ass a stiff slap and it ripples underneath his hand, parting it to reveal his pink rim. 

_Fuck_.

“I’ll only let you have it if you promise me you won’t have an asthma attack,” Baekhyun grins as he turns around again, straddling Chanyeol’s hips. Chanyeol growled at him once more, but he couldn’t fight. Baekhyun had overpowered him, and there was _no_ way Chanyeol was leaving this apartment without having a feel of that ass. Baekhyun teasingly rubs him before unbuckling his belt, slowly unzipping his pants, taking it off.

“What the fuck?” Baekhyun bellowed so loud that Chanyeol jerked.

“What?”

“Your cock is _this_ big?” he exclaimed incredulously, pointing accusatively at Chanyeol’s very punishing eight inches. Chanyeol looked down, and—well, yeah, admittedly, it looked very daunting, especially taking into account that Baekhyun was a little more than a half head shorter than him, with a body half his size. Baekhyun gawked at him, rather impressed. Some sort of sparkle lit behind his eyes; although Chanyeol’s ego bloated at his surprise, Baekhyun’s eyes told him that the younger was up to no good.

The boy leaves for a little bit to retrieve a bottle of lube and a condom, coming back to straddle his legs. He rips the packet open and Chanyeol was so fascinated with the way Baekhyun rolled on the condom with his long fingers, wondering how good it would feel to have both of them jerk off his cock. Somehow, by the end of it, Baekhyun looked rather relieved.

“What?”

“I was afraid it wouldn’t fit you, I’m not used to taking guys your size,” Baekhyun said, referring to the condom now neatly gloved against Chanyeol’s cock. Now, with a giggle, he hovers atop of Chanyeol and grabs hold of his cock with his dainty fingers, pouring lube atop of it and slathering it generously, before rubbing it teasingly against his rim. Chanyeol groaned, already feeling his erection twitch with impatience.

“Stay, doggie,” Baekhyun half-jokingly commands him, continuing his merciless tease—but Chanyeol knows youngins can’t restrain themselves from instant gratification. He’s right, because Baekhyun was now experimentally lowering himself onto him, continuously sinking half a head and pulling it out. Chanyeol rolled his eyes.

“Are you going to put it in or—”

“Shh, shh, patience, patience or you won’t get your treat,” Baekhyun cooed, and Chanyeol barked at him to go faster in response. Baekhyun snorted at his low tolerance before lowering himself down for real this time, swallowing up his head, his shaft—and Chanyeol felt just like the mere four hours ago when he swallowed that shot. His dick was enveloped with confines so hot and blistering it made Chanyeol groan and squirm, clawing the sheets to keep his composure, knowing that it's hurt the younger if he jerked his hips (yes, he was mean, but Chanyeol had more sense). Baekhyun's tightness suctions him in like a damn vacuum, squeezing him until his cock twitched, merciless as Baekhyun gloved him with his insides. Despite the condom, Chanyeol could feel _everything_ inside him, every bit wetness and texture and warmth; a trip to heaven as the boy sinks right down to the base. Baekhyun looked so utterly _wrecked_ , moaning shakily as he felt Chanyeol's balls press right up against his stretched rim. As he should—Chanyeol's size was no joke, and Baekhyun felt as if it was poking at the bottom of his tummy.

"So this is what you meant when you said you're going to kill me?" Baekhyun gasped, grinning cheekily at him despite the burning sensation he felt between his legs. He sat atop of Chanyeol's lap for a moment, trying to adjust the monstrous length nestled inside of him, before he straightened up and tightened his straddle against Chanyeol's hips.

"I hope you've got life insurance, old man," Baekhyun gives him a final smile, before it melted into a breathy moan as he moved up. Chanyeol was surprised the condom managed to stay on because holy _fuck_ he was tight, tighter than a tie, tighter unlike anything Chanyeol has ever experienced before. Baekhyun shakily rises up to the very tip, just so that Chanyeol was barely there, before he slammed down and he let out a _shuddering_ moan, strained against his throat. The feeling was _incredible_. Baekhyun had stamina to bounce on his cock in a steady rhythm, hopping up and down on the expanse of his thighs, mewling with every sink. It felt so damn good that Chanyeol's rage of the statement the younger made not a few minutes ago dissolved, instead overwhelmed by the boy's punishing tightness. It squeezed his cock relentlessly, friction felt on every inch, so tight and fast it made Chanyeol dizzy. 

"You like it, mister?" Baekhyun still had enough wits to laugh, pleasure written all over his face, moaning as he rode the elder's cock, "Like the sight of your _stupidly_ huge cock inside me, h-huh? You like it? You like impaling me in half with that beast of yours?"

Chanyeol could only answer with a barely-there groan, breath taken away by Baekhyun's asphyxiating insides. The young man felt _so_ wonderful, and Chanyeol struggled not to cum early as he watched his cock disappear in and out of the boy's ass, observing how his rim strained to accommodate his length. It could only be magic that could explain how Baekhyun could take his length so deep, with a body so small and lithe. The bartender throws his head back as he moves his hips, moaning, his hard cock rocking in the air as he rides the elder. Chanyeol, noticing his erection, grabs ahold of it and messily jerks it off, earning a mewl so sinful Chanyeol nearly ejaculated.

"S-Shit, what are you doing?"

"Getting you off?" Chanyeol said breathlessly, struggling to keep his concentration as Baekhyun sinks into him. The young man moaned at his ministrations, bucking his hips as he felt pleasure from both his hole and his cock, bottom lip bitten as he tried to keep his wits together.

"Fuck, _yes_ , go faster, tighten your grip," Baekhyun groaned. Chanyeol struggled to make an annoyed expression. _So mouthy, so bossy._ Still he complied anyway, jerking the younger frantically, and Chanyeol smirks with satisfaction as the younger's hips stuttered, struggling to compute the pleasure creeping up beneath his stomach.

" _Shit,_ fuck, I'm gonna cum," Baekhyun moaned, his voice going higher and higher until his spine violently arched. He cums into Chanyeol's fist and chest, his straddle collapsing as pleasure overwhelms him. He mews as his hips stuttered, still cumming into Chanyeol's slowing hand, now on all fours as orgasm wracks his whole body.

"You okay?" Chanyeol asked him, observing the sweat that covered the boy's temples. Chanyeol pushed his hair away from his face, twitching when he saw the pure bliss written into his expressions. Baekhyun nodded breathlessly, slowly pulling Chanyeol's cock out of his body, the elder's erection lying slick against his belly.

"Your turn now," Baekhyun grinned at him, still trying to catch his breath. _Finally, he says something that doesn't piss me off._ Baekhyun pulled off the condom and immediately jerked him off, his dainty fingers rubbing up on him so deliciously Chanyeol couldn't help but buck his hips up for more. It didn't help Chanyeol to last longer when Baekhyun's other hand came to cup his balls, massaging them and rolling his palm over them, Baekhyun's sultry voice whispering dirty _dirty_ things to him.

"Go on. Cum for me, I know you want to," he purred, hands going faster and faster, "Spill into my hand, mister. Let me lick it off my fingers."

That was all it took until Chanyeol was rutting his hips up from the orgasm that violently grabbed hold of his body, spurting filth into Baekhyun's beautiful hands, pent-up frustration dripping down his fingers. Chanyeol had to grip the sheets to control his trembling, gasping for air, clawing at the mattress as he cums at the boy's ministrations.

Chanyeol closed his eyes, trying to even out his breaths, the knots in his body undone from his ejaculation. He peered at the boy, who was licking his fingers clean, groaning at the sinful sight of it. It's only when Baekhyun swallowed the last drop that Chanyeol realised—this would not be the last time they'll fuck.

__

“Remind me again why _Kim Minseok_ is our safeword,” Chanyeol sighed, feeling the ropes tighten around his wrists. Baekhyun hummed as he tied his sugar daddy to the end of his bed, his thighs at the sides of Chanyeol’s face, naked and cock-half hard. When Baekhyun teases him with silence, Chanyeol darts his tongue to lick at his slit and the younger protests, slapping him lightly.

“Hey!”

“I asked a question,” Chanyeol frowned at him. Baekhyun gives him a shit-eating grin. Typical.

“ _Becauuuse_ ,” Baekhyun sang, sitting on the man’s collarbones, and Chanyeol felt an urge to tell the boy to sit right at his neck, “Because it’s out of context, and that’s what safewords are supposed to be.”

“Does it _have_ to be fucking Kim Minseok?” Chanyeol grunted, and Baekhyun simply giggled at him.

“Sure. We’re paying homage to him. Rest in peace, Kim Minseok.”

After their first encounter, and after a whole day of calling the bartender a stupid little brat, Chanyeol caved in and became his beneficiary—solely due to the fact that Baekhyun refused to have further contact with him if he didn’t pay him (though Chanyeol’s pretty sure that’s an empty threat; Baekhyun allowed himself to be fucked, with or without payment). ‘Beneficiary’ is the word Chanyeol liked to use, because apparently ‘sugar daddy’ was off-putting (but that didn’t stop Baekhyun from calling him an old man). Since then, they fucked whenever their schedules aligned, and Chanyeol gradually accepted that yes, he liked to be overpowered by a twenty-two year old college student in the bedroom, and he liked the humiliation that came whenever Baekhyun whispered in his ear that he had to pay just to get sex.

One of the better sessions happened in Chanyeol’s workplace or—to be specific—the ever-so loathed Kim Minseok’s office. Having had enough of him when Chanyeol was accused by the cocky intern of miscalculating _yet again_ , and by Baekhyun’s suggestion, they had violent, _violent_ sex atop of the intern’s desk, allowing themselves to get caught by Kim Minseok himself, witnessing how a tied-up Chanyeol begged the younger to ride him faster. Of course the intern told on them—but both of them had orchestrated everything so carefully that by the time Kim Minseok and his supervisor returned, Chanyeol was in fact perched in his _own_ office, nose-deep in his work, Baekhyun ‘dropping’ lunch for him, Kim Minseok’s desk spotless. This pretense immediately sent Kim Minseok into a good telling-off from the manager for lying about Chanyeol and trying to tarnish his name. Needless to say, Kim Minseok never said anything about Chanyeol ever again, and Chanyeol finished the day off with the bartender sucking him off under the desk.

Sure, Chanyeol never had the need to say ‘Kim Minseok’ in bed due to how carefully Baekhyun treated him, but it still irks him that Kim Minseok had a very important role in their bedroom activities. He just sighed and let Baekhyun chortle with giggles, telling him to close his eyes as he blindfolds the other man.

“There! Now you _really_ can’t see. How come your vision’s _this_ bad, old man?”

By now Chanyeol knows not to give in to his teasing, and lets Baekhyun have his laugh. It still irked him, but Chanyeol can mostly cool his rage when the younger makes fun of his age. That didn’t mean Chanyeol didn’t allow himself to be riled up from time to time—there was another occasion where Baekhyun gripped at his wits so hard, Chanyeol ended up topping him that night in a brazen haze of fury, the younger underneath him letting out moans so unorthodox it made Chanyeol black out when he came. While Baekhyun _does_ let Chanyeol have his own fun sometime, the elder was pretty lax in letting the younger take control—mostly some of it, other times _all_ of it.

Chanyeol had been waiting for this moment for quite a while. Work had turned his brain into mush for the past two weeks, and sometimes all he needed was the younger to momentarily take the reins so he could forget about having to control his life. Baekhyun provided not only good sex, but also an ear to lend; the younger was sometimes plagued with his student life and, despite their age difference, they managed to click in discussions of their own problems. Sometimes they met up and didn’t have sex—sometimes they hung out and drank together at the bar Baekhyun still worked in, or (Baekhyun’s absolutely favourite) went on a date, mostly to satisfy Baekhyun’s shopping addiction. Chanyeol’s heavy week left little to wonder as to why Chanyeol was already hard, especially as they hadn’t done anything but strip naked and restrain Chanyeol into the mattress.

“I think we’re ready,” Baekhyun propped himself up on his knees, closing in on Chanyeol’s face. The elder can’t see anything but he can feel the bed dip underneath Baekhyun’s weight, warmth of his thighs pressed up to his cheeks.

“I’ll reduce you to nothing but a mess of heat, old doggie,” Baekhyun murmured, and Chanyeol growled, anger coming back up—he still doesn’t like being called a dog, yet it riled him up enough to get his cock hard. Baekhyun giggled at him.

“Woof woof, bark bark,” he cooed, “Now shut up and do your tricks, m’kay?”

Baekhyun carefully lowered himself down onto Chanyeol’s face, positioning his rim onto Chanyeol’s mouth. The elder responded immediately and licked a stripe against his crack, earning a hard moan from the younger. Baekhyun comfortably settles more and more of his weight as Chanyeol adjusts to being suffocated by his body, tongue licking Baekhyun’s asshole in such an eager way he’d be embarrassed when Baekhyun retells it to him. When Chanyeol settles, Baekhyun rests his whole weight and watches as the blindfolded Chanyeol groans around his rim, tongue poking into his insides with nowhere to go. The younger moans as he feels the older man’s tongue probe him wet, feeling the muscle move inside him in such a languid way that made his thighs feel sweaty. Baekhyun, wanting more of it, gently rocks his hips on Chanyeol’s face, periodically lifting himself up so Chanyeol could have a gulp of air before he gets suffocated once more. Baekhyun throws his head back, sighing as he rides Chanyeol’s tongue, feeling the other’s lips pucker around his rim.

“That’s it. Good boy, eat it up,” Baekhyun moaned, stroking Chanyeol’s hair— _like a dog_ , he humoured to himself. Chanyeol strictly forbade him from getting the elder a collar once they talked about how they’d go about their sessions—but Baekhyun’s sure he’ll relent someday and agree to be chained up by his neck, tugged with harsh force as Baekhyun rides him mercilessly. Chanyeol never wanted to admit it, but being likened to a dog was an _extreme_ turn-on for him. Combined it with the fact that Chanyeol liked his ego stroked, it was a perfect match that Baekhyun fully took advantage of during their private time in the bedroom. Or in Kim Minseok’s office. Whenever they decided to have it.

When Chanyeol was almost red in the face, Baekhyun got off of him—he could really sit on top of him all day, but Chanyeol needed a break; proven once Chanyeol gasped out as the bartender got off of his face. Baekhyun sits close to his neck, holding his weight. With Baekhyun’s fully hard cock resting on Chanyeol’s face, the latter stuck out his tongue to lick up the underside—he couldn’t quite suck Baekhyun off with his restrains, but he mouthed Baekhyun’s cock when he could, giving it teasing licks, earning moans from the younger.

“Lap it up, go on,” Baekhyun sighed, rubbing his cockhead on Chanyeol’s lips, smearing it with pre-cum. He lets Chanyeol tongue his cock before he gets off, and Chanyeol frowns behind his blindfold as he hears Baekhyun rummage under the bed.

“What’re you doing there?”

“I have a surprise for you,” Baekhyun’s giggle didn’t leave much clues, so Chanyeol waited as he laid on the bed. A bit later, Chanyeol could hear a clink, like a bottle. Naturally he went up to investigate, but flopped when he remembered that he was being restrained at the wrists to the bed.

“Ever did body shots before?” Chanyeol could hear the bartender grin. There was the sound of the cap falling, and Baekhyun moved to straddle his hips.

“Suck in your stomach,” Baekhyun instructed him. Chanyeol, having _never_ heard of it before, makes a mumble of confusion.

“Huh?”

“Do it.”

“Sheesh—alright, brat,” Baekhyun could practically see the older’s eyes roll behind his blindfold. Chanyeol sucked his stomach in, so that it levelled lower than his ribs. He’s confused when he feels something wet being poured onto his stomach; not enough to spill, but just enough so that it was contained into the valley of his abs. Chanyeol could hear the other cap the bottle again, and hands pressed up at his hips.

“Bottoms up!” the younger briefly shouts and, before Chanyeol could ask what the _hell_ Baekhyun was doing, he could feel his lips and tongue over his stomach, lapping up at the liquid. Chanyeol eventually felt it all being slurped up and he relaxed his stomach when Baekhyun drank it up, but the latter made _such_ a noise afterwards and Chanyeol had to feed his curiosity as to what he was doing.

“What the fuck’s up with you?”

“Bacardi,” was his answer, before he made a noise that was between strangulation and disgust, “How the fuck did you manage to drink this straight? It nearly fucking killed me!”

“I didn’t. I just died on the inside,” Chanyeol admitted truthfully. The younger made some sort of hoarse noise before he cleared his throat.

“Thought I’d give an extra edge to the blow today—’cause I know my sugar daddy loves it,” Baekhyun grinned, despite making gagging noises at the feeling on his throat. Chanyeol smiled—Baekhyun’s not wrong. It wasn’t too long after they had their first meeting when Chanyeol found out Baekhyun gave _killer_ blowjobs. Mindblowing, absolutely euphoric ones. Partly the reason why he agreed to become Baekhyun’s beneficiary, actually. Chanyeol allows himself a self-indulgent grin when he feels Baekhyun’s dainty fingers holding the base of his cock.

“Go make daddy proud.”

Baekhyun smiled around the tip, before he sinks deep into his throat without warning and _holy fuck_ Chanyeol was in _heaven_. The alcohol had made Baekhyun’s throat both hot and numb, so that the younger sank into him with ease while providing him such heated warmth. Chanyeol was restrained and couldn’t hold his head but there’s no need to—Baekhyun was mercilessly sucking him off, moving his head at the speed of his hands, cheeks sucked in so tight Chanyeol couldn’t feel anything else but his own cock. The elder groans breathily as the bartender does quick work on his shaft, lips clamped like a bear trap on his erection. The fact that he was blindfolded made him infinitely more sensitive, and Chanyeol doesn’t bother to quieten himself when he feels the younger bury his cock right into his windpipes, nestled so comfortably there, tongue twitching as the younger tries to accommodate his length. The numbness of the alcohol prevented Baekhyun from gagging, so he deepthroated Chanyeol as deep as he liked, going so far as to dig his nose into Chanyeol’s stomach with his mouth full of cock.

“ _Jesus_ , brat, you’re good,” Chanyeol groaned when Baekhyun finally slides off, feeling saliva dribble down to the base almost immediately. Chanyeol could hear him gulp down his own thick spit.

“Think that’s going to pay off this semester?” Baekhyun purred at him. Chanyeol snorted.

“Fuck off.”

“You wouldn’t miss out on Baekhyunnie’s ass, would you?” Chanyeol could _practically_ hear him pout, and Chanyeol groaned. Baekhyun had him wrapped around his little finger, and it annoyed him to no end. Still, he’s right—he couldn’t _possibly_ miss out. The last time he threatened Baekhyun and waved cash above his head, the younger refused to finish him. It stung Chanyeol’s bloated ego to be blackmailed, so he made sure to prevent it whenever he could.

“Christ. Fine.”

“And a puppy.”

“Aren’t pets banned from your apartment?”

“ _Exactly,_ and that's why you need to buy me a condo,” Baekhyun scratched at Chanyeol’s chagrin at every opportunity, and Chanyeol ignored the boy’s guffawing laughter. Chanyeol noticed that his voice began to slur as he cackled, and sighed. Baekhyun tended to pull incredulous stunts in sex, and drinking a 151 from Chanyeol’s stomach wasn’t even the most ridiculous one. A 75.5% was sure to fuck him up real quick.

“I’m too dizzy to ride you now,” Baekhyun rubbed his cheek on the elder’s hipbone, kissing the base of his cock, “Can we do missionary today?”

“What’s the safe word?”

“ _Kim Minseok_ ,” Baekhyun replied without missing a beat, nodding, knowing that Chanyeol only asked him to make sure that he’s not too tipsy to be making decisions on sex. The other seemed to mull, however, and let out a noise as if he had just came up with the most _brilliant_ plan ever.

“What if—” he licked his lips, slowly brushing his hands against Chanyeol’s cock, “You fuck me with blindfolds on?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“ _Come_ on, it’ll be hot,” Baekhyun whined, and Chanyeol wanted to end it all whenever the little brat started whining. Still, Baekhyun was trying to persuade him by stroking his cock, which made it harder to say no.

“Fine. Now go untie me before I change my mind,” Chanyeol relented, and Baekhyun did a little whoop as he reached out to untie the ropes, kissing Chanyeol’s sore wrists. Before laying back, Baekhyun poured lube onto the elder’s cock and briefly stroked him with it, before laying back onto the mattress and letting Chanyeol navigate by himself to his body.

Chanyeol looked so clueless, and Baekhyun giggled as he let the man try to locate his legs. Chanyeol got hold of his thighs pretty quickly, and folded them up so that it rested on Baekhyun’s knees. Chanyeol tried to squeeze his legs, but received a foot slap on the cheek and a tutting from the other.

“Bad dog. Naughty. Do as you’re told,” Baekhyun said sternly, and Chanyeol scowled at him, baring his teeth at him. It’s the one thing Chanyeol had to give up when they’re in a session like this— _Baekhyun_ holds the reins, _Baekhyun_ gets to say what he can or he can’t do. Before he could get kicked again, Chanyeol reached down for his cock and tried to position himself to an approximation as to where Baekhyun’s hole might be, prodding the side of his thigh a few times before catching his rim. Slowly, Chanyeol rubbed the head against it to make sure it _was_ his hole, before he slowly pushed in, biting his bottom lip as he felt Baekhyun constrict against him.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re cock’s fucking _thick_ ,” Baekhyun moaned, the thing not even halfway in. His slightly tipsy state made him feel weightless, but at the same time Chanyeol’s cock felt _huge_ , the feeling intensified by tenfold. Chanyeol groaned as he continued to push into the warmth beneath Baekhyun’s legs, panting when the younger’s rim reached the base. He was already twitching beyond his control, and he hasn’t even begun thrusting yet.

There were only gasps and breaths as they adjusted to each other—the first time they went bareback, Chanyeol didn't last long enough and spilled into the boy’s hole in less than ten minutes. Chanyeol had some form of restrain now, but it was still difficult when Baekhyun had an asshole that could only stretch to the circumference of a fucking polo mint. The younger had to _strain_ just to fit Chanyeol’s ridiculous girth—but even so, the burn of being made to accommodate something so big felt delicious.

“Hurry up and _move,_ or are you too weak and slow to fuck me, old man?” Baekhyun purposefully riled him up, and Chanyeol fell for the bait hook, line, and sinker. Despite the blindfolds, Chanyeol began moving at a punishing pace _just_ to shut up the younger, building up a steady rhythm of skin slapping skin. It lewdly echoes in the room, along with the wanton mewls that the boy began to produce from his throat. It made Chanyeol absolutely _stiff_ just to hear the boy pleasured by his thrusts—still, he knew the bartender was still going to order him around despite the mighty effort he already puts into pounding him.

“Fuck, yes, yes—” Baekhyun moaned, feeling Chanyeol violently piston into him, “Good boy. That’s it, yes, right there, good boy. Go faster, harder— _fuck_ , yes, that’s it, _ah_ —”

Chanyeol’s erection impaling him right down the middle felt _delicious_. Baekhyun could feel his hot flesh with every thrust and drag, the friction of skin on skin making him lose his wits. Chanyeol penetrated him so deep Baekhyun could practically feel him knocking at the back of his throat, breaking him down the middle, melting him into putty. Despite Chanyeol’s lack of vision, he knew _exactly_ how to make Baekhyun squeal with pleasure, pounding him balls-deep until he was squirming. The younger was letting out moans so whorish Chanyeol fought not to take control over him, knowing that if he did, Baekhyun wouldn’t grant him release.

“You like fucking me, mister?” Baekhyun mewled, voice wrecked into hoarseness, “You like fucking me with that big cock of yours? H-Huh? You like pounding me until I’m sore all over, is that what you like?”

The younger’s taunts rendered Chanyeol breathless, and he groans loudly as he fucks into Baekhyun harder, the noise of skin slapping skin becoming wetter and louder. With little warning, Baekhyun yanked his head lower by fisting his hair and wrapped his pretty fingers around Chanyeol’s neck, choking him as he pummeled into the younger’s hole.

“Look at you, fucking me like a dog in heat. That’s all you’re useful for, to pleasure me with your shameless rut,” Baekhyun hissed at him, and Chanyeol let out a strained groan against Baekhyun’s chokehold. The lack of air made Chanyeol as high as a kite, pure bliss as he pounds into the younger over and over again. He gets sloppier as he nears an edge, panting against Baekhyun’s pretty fingers, face red from the suffocation.

“You’re getting fucking sloppy. Pick up the pace, bitch,” Baekhyun barked at him, and it’s precisely at this moment that Chanyeol starts to whimper, unlike the control-loving man he was before this all went down. Baekhyun watches with triumph as the elder becomes more desperate, panting as he thrusts into him, jaw slack as he shamelessly lets out guttural groans fall out of his mouth.

“Fuck, _please_ , Baek,” Chanyeol gasps, pleading. _Pleading_. Baekhyun knows he’s stripped Chanyeol of his dignity, because the elder was now at his utmost vulnerable, desperately chasing his pleasure, fucking into the boy blindly, “Fuck, let me cum, _please_.”

“ _Do it_ ,” Baekhyun grips his jaw so hard he’s sure he’d leave marks on it, “Cum inside me. Show me how grateful you are to be able to fuck me with that pathetic desperation of yours. Finish your little doggy rut.”

The other’s words were enough to hit Chanyeol where it pleased the most. His hips came into a jerky stutter as he cums, groaning so loudly he went hoarse. It knocked the wind out of him and he almost collapsed as he ejaculated deep into Baekhyun, filling the younger up with his lustful filth, teeth clenched as he twitches uncontrollably in the confines of the younger’s insides. His nails dug into Baekhyun’s hips, letting the orgasm wash over him before he collapsed on top of the younger, shuddering, trying to catch his breath.

Automatically, Baekhyun’s hand came up to untie the blindfolds and stroke his hair, to which Chanyeol replied by burying his nose into the crook of the younger’s neck. Sure, he paid for the sex—but it was also here where he could find some relaxing comfort, away from the stress of his job. Baekhyun always managed to put him in this trance, wherein all the knots in his body and all the plaguing frustrations went away, just by having the younger present. They usually never kissed outside of sex, due to the nature of their relationship, but Baekhyun doesn't complain when Chanyeol pressed a sloppy kiss onto his mouth as a groggy thank-you, sighing when Chanyeol’s head fell to the younger’s shoulders again.

“Let’s finish you up,” Chanyeol groaned as he got up, feeling all his bones wobble. Baekhyun chuckled at his grogginess.

“I think I’m too tipsy to cum,” Baekhyun said sheepishly, to which Chanyeol took as a challenge. He wraps his hand around the younger’s erection before he jerks him off, nice and fast, with a grip that he knew the younger liked. Baekhyun moaned at his ministrations, head thrown back as he enjoyed the nonstop stream of pleasure that was Chanyeol’s delightful, rough hands. Baekhyun bit his bottom lip, feeling his orgasm creep up on him.

“Mnnn, yeah. Balls too, p-please,” Baekhyun gasped out. Chanyeol grunts at him, using his other hand to massage his sacks.

“You’re so bossy.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m trying to cum,” Baekhyun weakly kicked him, the movement accidentally causing Chanyeol to tug at his cock. Unexpectedly, Baekhtun bucked up his hips and came right then and there, moaning noisily as he ejaculated. White ribbons spill from the tip of his cock, right onto Chanyeol's hands and his own stomach. His legs shake as he cums, panting against the elder’s mouth when he hovered over the younger to pepper kisses onto his lips. As Baekhyun came down from his high, he sighed and finally kissed Chanyeol back properly, murmuring into his mouth, before Chanyeol collapsed to his side.

“Better now?” Baekhyun asked him breathlessly, referring to Chanyeol’s previous agitated and stressed state. The elder nodded, his muscles now free of tension. He sighs into the mattress, feeling content with the younger by his side. Baekhyun smiled at him.

“See, ever since you started having sex with me, the number of wrinkles you have has reduced,” Baekhyun wastes no time in biting him, and Chanyeol retorts by tugging at the younger’s still sensitive cock. Baekhyun squealed, responding by kicking Chanyeol in the thigh. 

“Ow!” Baekhyun whined. Chanyeol snorted.

“Brat.”

“Whatever you say, old man.

“Don’t call me an old man.”

“No can do, old man.”

Chanyeol lets Baekhyun have the last laugh. He turns into his back and opens his arms, motioning the younger towards him.

“Come here and give the old man a cuddle, brat,” Chanyeol said sleepily, to which Baekhyun doesn’t contest. He happily sidled up into the elder’s arms, resting his head onto Chanyeol’s broad shoulders. Chanyeol automatically wraps his arms around him in an embrace, and he is soon lulled into unconsciousness by the younger’s steady breathing, his mind finally at peace.


End file.
